Viva la Revolution
by spintheblackcircle
Summary: Bella's on the run from a lonely life.  She joins paths with a band of colourful revolutionaries, with whom she finds a community and acceptance.  But when she gets arrested, who will bail her out?
1. Chapter 1

**Viva la Revolution**

A/N: This is my first crack at fanfiction. So please be kind.

I do not own these characters, Stephanie Meyers does. However I do own a bad ass cat who likes to try and eat me.

**Chapter 1**

It was official. My skinny ass was going to the clink.

I lied face down on the cold concerte floor. In a large dark warehouse that contained so many good memories for me. The only light was coming from the red and blue flashing lights of the police cruisers outside the large open double metal doors. I shut my eyes tight to try and block out the reality of what was happening to me and the ones I loved.

God dammit, I just fucking wish this bitter, harsh, money driven world would leave us all the fuck alone.

We all knew it was only a matter of time before this happened. People like us, the dregs of society, weren't meant to be happy. Our demise was inevitable.

While living with my fellow misfits in our shared community, I noticed that there was a sense of unease the last few days. It seemed like a major change was coming on the horizon for all of us. Yeah, we all knew that shit was going to go down. All of us that is except Alice, her punk rock tattooed ass was always wrong about shit like this. She always told me she could "see the future". Personally, I think she just has acid flash backs.

We built this place, our home from the ground up. We did it by taking care of each other. We made sure everyone was fed, had clean clothes, and a shoulder to cry on. We worked fucking hard for what we had. Most kids here (myself included) never had anyone who looked out for us. We were all outcasts with no one to turn to. So fate brought us all here together.

I remember the afternoon I finally left my dad to search for a better life. I was sitting in my great grandmother's old wooden rocking chair wondering how things had gotten this bad. Wondering how I had made the decisions that led me to this place. To a point in time where hoplessness was all that surrounded me. I felt like all of the promise, all of the dreams I once had within my grasp, had slipped away.

I knew that I only had myself to blame. I had given up the very core of my being to satisfy others. I have always wanted to make the people close to me happy. I wanted to see them smile. So I subverted my needs to fulfill their's. Little did I realize that, over time, this chipped away at me, at my very foundation, leaving me feeling empty and alone.

But like I said, that was my choice. My decision. To take care of the people around me. Even though at times I knew my family and friends took advantage of my martyr-like tendencies. They enjoyed me giving in to them. Being able to always get what they wanted to benefit them. Giving me nothing in return.

I can see it now, the wrong decisions I made. But I didn't have the courage then to live the life I wanted. Instead I lived the life others chose for me so that I wouldn't disappoint them.

Yes, that used to be my biggest problem. I had no courage. I was a fucking wimp. So, as I sat there thinking, I knew what I had to do. I had to leave this small town. I had to leave my drunk of a father, my sorry ass "friends" and crummy after school job.

I had to find what I needed. And what I needed was freedom. Freedom from family and friends who showed me little to no love and affection. I wanted to find a home, a community where what I gave was appreciated by everyone. I wanted to know people who pulled together and looked after each other. I wanted to be taken care of, and to care of those people in return. Yes, that was it. I needed to find people who thought and felt like I did. I needed to find reciprocal relationships.

Sitting in that rocking chair, I quickly jumped up, ran to my closet, and started rifling through all of my crap. I found my large buffle bag at the bottom of the closet. I hadn't used it since I moved in with my father Charlie five years ago. That was also the last time I saw my mother Renee.

I knew Renee had had enough of me long before I moved to the small town of Forks to live with Charlie. She was overjoyed when I finally told her that I though I would try living with him. With me gone, she would finally have what she wanted, a life with her new husband Phil. Free from the "responsibilities" of raising a teenage daughter. But I couldn't deny her her freedom, because like I said earlier, I wanted everyone to be happy, even if I wasn't. Even if what made her happy was never bothering to call or visit me.

I started shoving random pieces of clothing into my bag. Then I went to my bookshelf and grabbed some of my favourite books. At my bed, I lifted up the mattress to find the meagre envelope of money I had hidden there, away from Charlie's greedy, drunken hands. Lastly, I ran out of my room into the bathroom and packed my toiletry bag into my now very full duffle bag. I quickly headed down the stairs, to find the t.v. on to some sporting event. I glanced over the couch to see Charlie fast asleep clutching a beer in his hand.

It made me sad to see him like that. When I was little he was full of life, always happy and smiling. But he became a bitter man who drank to hide his pain. I knew that Charlie was heartbroken over my mother leaving him 16 years ago. Over time, the loss had weighed on him.

When I first moved in with him I saw how much he had changed. Always moping around the house with a beer in his hand. Seeing him so broken down, so weathered, made me want to fix him. To put all his pieces back together. I decided I would take care of him just like I had been taking care of Renee. And in all that time I spent taking care of them not once did they say thank you.

So I quickly wrote a goodbye note to Charlie, telling him I loved him. Then I took one last look at my home for past five years and walked out the door, knowing that this was it. It was going to be the biggest decision of my life.

It was official that no matter what happened.

If I sank or swam.

That was a defining moment in my life.

Thinking back I know I made the right decision to come to Seattle. I had found exactly what I had been looking for. This was the life I was meant for. Caring for the less fortunate while they cared for me. We were like Robin Hood and his fucking band of merry men (except we had lots of chicks in our gorup). We were a band of revolutionaries fighting for justice, to make sure all people had a place in society. So if that meant we had to rob from the rich and give to the poor then so fucking be it. We were just evening things out.

But, taking five finger discounts from large multi-billion dollar stores isn't why I was lying here on the floor with my hands cuffed behind my back and my feet bond together. No, we were here because of that rich ass golden boy Edward fucking Cullen. He had taken everything from my friends and me. The thought of him having so much power over me and my comrades made me so fucking angry I wanted to cry.

I heard Alice to my left trying to comfort me with loving words. I turned my head to look at her. We stared into each other's eyes. Silent tears started to run down her lovely pale face. I wanted to wipe her tears away but I couldn't and neither could she.

"My cuffs are too tight," she whispered. "They're cutting me."

"FUCK," I screamed. I hated seeing her like this. So defeated, all the life taken out of her eyes.

Then I heard Vicky whisper something. I turned my head to the right to look at her. Her long red curly hair covered most of her face.

"Don't worry Alice this will be over soon," she cooed in a soft voice.

We were the only ones left in the warehouse. Everyone else had already been carried out. I started thinking about how this large space used to be our safe haven. And now it was lost to us.

I heard loud thumping footsteps. I looked up straining my neck and saw six cops in black riot gear come inside. They divded into two groups of three. Three went to my left and three to my right.

"Get the fuck away from me," Vicky snarled.

The cops remained silent as they quickly picked her up and carried her out. Vicky, of course, didn't go quietly. She started swearing and squirming in the police officers' hands. It brought a smile to my face to see how strong her spirit was.

I looked over to Alice. She was still crying when two cops, one on either side of her, grabbed her tiny arms roughly. The third picked up her feet. They hoisted her up into the air and started walking out.

"I'll see you at the cop shop," I yelled trying to comfort her.

"I love you Belle, stay strong," she called out in a choked voice.

"I love you too, Alley Cat."

Now there was just me, alone and cold. I put my face back down on the ground. The strain in my neck was killing me.

Then I heard the sound of footsteps enter the warehouse again. But they were different. They didn't sound like the heavy combat boots the cops wore. They were lighter, softer. I lifted my head once more and was taken aback by what I saw.

"I didn't think you would bother to come and see all your dirty work carried out," I hissed, my teeth gritted in anger.

He was silent. He took a few steps closer to me, his designer shoes in front of my face. Then he bent down on one knee so that we were eye level. His dark green eyes staring into mine. He took a deep breath and sighed. I noticed that his usual neatly combed bouffant of bronze hair was in a messy disarray. He slowly lifted his hand to my head and brushed my long brown hair behind my shoulder. Like he fucking gave a shit or something. He moved his hand to my chin and lightly brushed his fingers along it. He drew his face closer to mine so that we were just a few inches apart. And still he remained silent.

This was the man that stole my home and the people I cared about most in the world. I would make him pay. With my last ounce of strength, I knew what I had to do. I looked him right in his eyes, my heart full of hate. And then I spit in his face, laughing out, "Viva la Revolution, Cullen."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n**: I do not own Twilight our it's characters.

Thank you to all the people who read, reviewed and are following my story. You really made my week.

**Viva La Revolution**

Chapter 2

It was official. Neon orange was not my colour. My bright orange jumpsuit made me look like a pumpkin. Too bad the prison system didn't stick to the classic black and white stripes.

I sighed and let out a long breath. I had learned two important lessons in the last twenty four hours.

Lesson one - Never get arrested on a Friday night. If you do, your ass will be stuck in prison all weekend while you wait for the courts to open for your bail hearing on Monday. Not that many of us had anyone to bail us out. Fuck, we couldn't even afford a lawyer.

Lesson two - Living in a square white room with harsh florscent lights and an open shared toilet isn't fun. At least I had Jessica as my cell mate. Some of the rest of our girls weren't so lucky. Alice and Leah had some pretty hardcore gangster-looking chicks in with them. Although, if Jessica was going to keep asking me what I thought Jacob was doing right now, I might ask Alice to switch with me.

It was our first night here in the slammer. We spent last night locked up at the cop shop. After being strip searched, fingerprinted, photographed and asked a million and one questions, we were all divided into two different cells that smelled like piss and vomit. Early the next morning they took all of us girls on an enjoyable ride to the state prison where we spent our day in a lovely communal shower, eating food that closely resembled dog shit and meeting our new "welcoming" inmates.

I know I sound bitter and perhaps I shouldn't be because we all knew that what we were doing was technically illegal, but it didn't feel like it was. It felt like what we were doing had purpose and meaning. We were providing a safe, loving home for youth that weren't given that from their families. The problem was with all of us being runaways, none of us had enough money to afford a large enough place to rent for all thirty of us to live in. So, for about a year before I found them, Jazz, Alley Cat, James, Vicky and Jacob had taken matters into their own hands and found an old abandoned warehouse to live in. We all knew the building belonged to someone but no one ever showed any ownership over it. It had been falling apart before the gang had found it.

I lived there happily for a year and a half. Until six months ago, when Jazz read in the Seattle Times that some wealthy landowners had bought a large portion of the western area of Seattle. And that area included our beloved warehouse. They wanted to gentrify the area by ripping down the old manufacturing buildings and replacing them with over-priced condos.

Over those six months my thinking about our illegal occupation of this warehouse changed. At first I just thought we were living in a community taking care of each other. But Jazz had been right, it was so much more than that. It was about showing the wealthy landowners that everyone had a right to have a roof over their head. Just because money was exchanged between powerful people's hands it didn't mean that they had a right to push us out of our home. That's when I started to read all the books that Jazz had recommended about revolutionary movements. The books caused me to look deeper at our society and the work we were doing by maintaining this community. Of course we all knew in the end that the wealthy would win. But it had been important to make our stand.

Jessica was lying on the bunk above me. I could tell from her breathing that she was almost asleep. I, on they other hand, couldn't relax enough to fall asleep. Every time I closed my eyes all I could see were the faces of my dearest friends.

I found my friends the first day I landed in Seattle. It should have taken me three hours to drive there. But it took me six fucking hours. By the time I reached the outskirts of the city my truck started to make what can only be described as the sound of death. And thick plumes of smoke started puffing out of the engine. At that point I knew it was offical, my truck was a piece of crap. I pulled off of the highway at the first exit I came to. I pulled over on the first quiet side street I found. I stopped the engine and hopped out of my truck to take a look. I walked around to the front of my truck and opened the very hot hood of the engine. Ahhhh shitters, there goes my truck.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to try and push out my growing frustration. I slowly exhaled and opened my eyes to take in my surroundings. Crap, my truck would have to die in what looked like a really bad area of town. There were boarded up windows on old industrial buildings that were falling apart. The brown bricks of the buildings were covered in graffiti tags in various colours. I looked up at the sky and noticed that the sun was beginning to set. Just then the wind picked up and blew a chilly gust of air and quiet drops of rain started to fall. It was the middle of October and you could tell fall was here. I shivered from the cold wind and went back to my truck, hopped in the cab and closed the door. I grabbed my favorite hoodie with the soft fuzzy insides from my duffle bag. I started to drum my fingers on my steering wheel and stared out my windshield as I thought about what the hell I was going to do.

Perhaps I should have thought things through more. My whole 'take charge of your life, change things on the spur of the moment' plan didn't seem like such a good idea now. Maybe I could have tried to find somewhere to stay that was closer to home. No, I couldn't have done that. I had reached my breaking point and needed a fresh start. Yes, things would be hard on my own, but I could do it, couldn't I? Was I taking control of my life or was I just running away from it?

I was suddenly snapped out of my train of thought when I saw a flash of movement in my left side view mirror. I started to turn to see what or who it was when my driver side door was ripped open. A large hand roughly grabbed my arm and threw me on to the damp pavement. I landed on my elbow with a loud crack. A bolt of pain shot up my arm. I screamed out in agony. Two rough hands picked me up off of the ground and pulled me up into my attacker's face. His dark eyes looked into mine as he shook me violently. He started to yell at me to give him all of my money. I tried to tell him to take my envelope full of money, take my duffle bag of personal belongings, fuck, he could even take my crappy truck. I tried to get these words out but couldn't. I was paralyzed with fear. Everything started to spin and go black. I was going to pass out when an arm wrapped around my attacker's throat and jerked him backwards. He let go of me and I fell to the ground. It had gotten so dark out I could hardly see what was happening. I thought I saw three men trying to subdue my attacker. Then one of the men lifted his head but I couldn't make out his face.

"Alley Cat, help the girl," he shot out in a breathless voice.

I felt a small gentle hand on the small of my back; another hand rested on my lower right arm. A small female voice whispered, "Come with me. I'll keep you safe."

She helped me to my feet and we slowly made our way down the street. When we came to the end she turned us to the left. We hobbled on down the street with her arms still cradling me. My breathing was frantic, my left arm was in agony and I was shaking so badly from fear that I could hardly walk. We trudged on for two more blocks in the darkened streets. I could smell fire wood burning somewhere close to us. Then she stopped walking.

"Down this alley way," she murmured.

I pulled myself out of her grasp. I was unsure if I should trust this stranger. Yes, she had saved me from danger. But, I didn't know what the fuck was down this alley.

"I would never hurt you she," she said.

I decided to follow her, feeling like at this point I had nothing to lose. We walked in silence halfway down the alley. Then she stopped in front of a set of large metal double doors. She pulled and jerked them open with her tiny frame. They opened with a loud creak.

"This is our home," she said, a hint of pride in her voice. Dim light from the inside of the building lit the alley. For the first time I could get a good look at her face. She was around my age and height. She had short black spiky hair and a lip ring. Her skin was pale and beautiful. She was wearing a dark denim jacket, a black mini skirt, ripped fishnet stockings and dark combat boots. She looked up at me with a smile.

"I'm Alice." She extended her hand out to me. I smiled back and shook her hand with my good arm.

"Hey, I'm Bella. Thanks for saving me back there."

She didn't answer but her smile grew wider. "Come on in Bella, welcome."

She gestured for me to walk in ahead of her. I slowly stepped through the doors. And I couldn't believe what I saw. I opened my mouth in shock. It was simply incredible. Then I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. I turned around to find three young men standing behind me in a row.

The one on the left had a messy pony tail, blue eyes and my duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He was wearing a dark blue hoodie and jeans. The man on the right had a huge grin plastered across his face, short cropped black hair, russet skin and colourful tattoos up and down his arms. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt and dark jeans. The man in the middle was the one with his hand on my sholuder. He had curly blond hair that was shoulder length, pale skin and stubble on his face. He was wearing an old dark brown fedora, a red bandana around his neck, a green army coat and dark pants.

The man in the middle dropped his hand and took a step towards me. He lowered his head and began to search through his pockets. He pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. He lit his smoke, then lifted his head and adjusted his hat so that it was tilted at an angle. He put the cigarette to his lips and took a long drag. As he slowly exhaled his mouth turned up into a smile. He looked at me intently and said in a deep, clear voice, "Viva la revolution, darling."

Eventually, reliving the good memories of life with my friends had me drifting off into a peaceful sleep.


End file.
